


Show Me How to Love Again

by lumilumii



Category: EXO (Band), Mamamoo, SHINee
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, Healing, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, References to Depression, Romance, SingleParent!AU, i will add more tags as we go along, jongin is precious and needs a lot of love okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumilumii/pseuds/lumilumii
Summary: When Jongin's wife dies, he swears that nothing could ever heal his broken heart.His three year old son, a fierce psychiatrist and a bright eyed kindergarten teacher disagree.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fic posted here. I am terrified.

Jongin can feel her slipping away. Her once warm fingers are growing cold and her cheeks are pale, much like the rest of her face. Her breath comes in shallow, ragged gasps that rip through her throat and Jongin can feel the pain with each rise and fall of her chest. 

 

“Jongin,” She rasps, “Jongin.”

 

He curls his fingers around hers, heart stuttering in his chest at the thought that she may not even be able to feel him touching her, “I’m here, love.”

 

“Promise me you won’t stop moving forward.” She forces her eyelids open so she can look at him, “You have to… H-have to be there for him, for Jae.”

 

“I will. I will, baby, I promise.” There’s the ghost of a smile on Jongin’s lips as he clutches her hand in both of his and presses it against his chest. He’s swallowing the lump in his throat, “I promise.”

 

“I love you.” She tells him, the very corner of her sickly white lips kinking up and Jongin swears he can see a twinkle in her eyes.

 

He’s crying as he lifts her hand, knuckles to his mouth, lips against skin.

 

“I love you.”

 

\--

 

A lot of people come to the funeral. Relatives, friends, co-workers, even old schoolmates. There’s almost too many and Jongin can barely speak. He doesn’t thank people for coming, doesn’t shake hands, doesn’t bow back when people bow to him in respect. He’s numb.  
His sister stands at the door, Jae held tight in her arms wearing a little black suit, his head pressed against her shoulder as he sleeps. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but Jongin knows the words ‘mommy’s not coming home’ will keep him up at night, and it kills him inside to know that he can’t properly explain. That the tears won’t stop, that the frustration will only grow.

 

Minseok is keeping his parents busy, which he’s grateful for. His mother keeps sending him looks, her eyes filled with worry, but he can’t handle talking to them any more than what he did when the service started.  
His wife’s parents are much worse. Her mother can barely keep herself upright, her fingers on one hand finding permanent purchase on the sleeve of her husband’s jacket, the other pressing a white handkerchief against her nose and mouth. Her eyes are rimmed red and she can’t speak for sobbing. It breaks Jongin’s heart.

 

When it’s over, Jongin goes outside and lights up a cigarette, hiding in the shadows of the building as the people file out and into their cars to return home.  
He sinks back against the cold wall and is momentarily at peace, or perhaps the freezing brick has soothed his aching heart.

 

“She deserved better.” It’s Sehun’s voice that breaks the silence, “Better than cancer.”

 

“Yeah.” Jongin’s glad his friend doesn’t try and touch him, but he stands about a foot away, just offering his presence.

 

It’s not like no one knew it was coming. She’d been sick for years, but it was only during recent months she’d took a turn for the worst. The treatements all stopped, the drugs weren’t helping, she was in too much pain and one day the doctors said was nothing more that they could do for her.

 

“Your sister is offering to take Jae for the night.” Sehun tells him, his voice level and surprisingly void of emotion. Jongin doesn’t know whether to be confused or grateful for the lack of expression.

 

Jongin exhales smoke, watching it billow out into the cool night air, “I don’t think it’ll be good for me to be alone.” He says.

 

“It might not be a good idea for you to be alone with him.” Sehun turns his head to look at Jongin, his face blank but dark eyes swimming with concern.

 

Jongin holds his gaze for a few passing moments before he looks away, pulling the cigarette from between his lips to toss it on the ground, stepping on it to put out the flame.  
He’s heard the stories, the terrible tales of parents who would hurt or even abandon their children after the death of their spouse. He can’t imagine himself doing such a thing to Jae, but with the way he’s acted through the entirety of the funeral, he can understand why his friends would be concerned.

 

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Sehun asks.

 

Jongin only nods.

 

\--

 

It seems like a lifetime, but days eventually turn into weeks and before Jongin realizes it, Jae has turned three and already seven months have passed since they lost her.  
After a month working his miserable desk job, Jongin quit and became a dance tutor at a fairly prestigious performing arts academy. Sehun says he’s finally finding peace, but Jongin always – no matter how much he loves it – feels as if it’s more of a distraction from his real day-to-day life, pulling his away from the harsh realities of raising a son all on his own. His sister helps him a lot. She works from home and offers to take care of Jae while Jongin is teaching and he’s always grateful for her assistance.

 

The truth is he doesn’t really know how to look after a child. Plenty of people say he’s a good dad, but he’s still so young and since his wife died he knows he’s become disconnected. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take responsibility for Jae, but every time he looks at the boy’s round eyes and chocolate coloured hair he’s reminded of her. Sometimes he breathes through it, but at others his heart and head cloud so dark he becomes overwhelmed and has to leave the room, and more often than not takes to sitting outside on the front step with a cigarette between his teeth to calm his broken heart.

 

This afternoon he’s at Sehun’s house again. It’s almost become a second home for him at this point.  
Baekhyun is talking to him animatedly as he leans over the kitchen counter, one hand waving about in the air as he speaks while the other holds a half-empty glass of wine, the deep red liquid sloshing about and threatening to spill with each of the man’s excited movements.  
Jae is in the living room with their daughter, Yuri, squeaks and squeals flittering through the house every now and then. Sehun has positioned himself strategically at the dining table so he can keep one eye on the two toddlers and be involved in the ‘adult’ conversation at the same time.

 

“Say, Jongin,” Baekhyun suddenly breaks off midway through his sentence, “Jae is three now, isn’t he?”

 

“We went to his birthday party, for God’s sake.” Sehun monotones behind Jongin before he can answer.

 

“Oh, fuck off.” Baekhyun grins, “Anyway, have you thought about taking him to kindergarten?”

 

Jongin leans his elbows on the counter top, “Kindergarten?” He echoes, “I can’t say I have. My sister has always been the one looking after him ever since…” He trails off into silence.

 

“Well that’s very sweet of her, but at this age Jae really should be around other children.” Baekhyun lifts his hand, cutting Jongin off before he can squeeze in a protest, “Yuri shouldn’t be his only friend, don’t even try.”

 

“You think so?” Jongin sighs, propping his chin up with the flat of his palm.

 

Sehun’s the one who answers him this time, “I’m sure he’d enjoy it, and it’d help him learn some new things too. Yuri always comes home babbling about something exciting, like how she’s learnt new letters of the alphabet or some shit like that.”

 

“You make it sound so wonderful.” Jongin chuckles, rolling his eyes at the face Sehun makes in response. The younger man has never been particularly good with proper positive expression.

 

“Seriously though, we’ll give you the details and everything. The new term will be starting in a few weeks, you really should think about it.” Baekhyun smiles warmly, reaching over to place his hand on Jongin’s forearm, giving a soft squeeze.

 

It’s at that moment Jae and Yuri come waddling on their little legs into the kitchen, Yuri immediately making grabby hands up at Sehun. Jongin watches his friend pick the little girl up, covering her tubby round cheeks in playful kisses. He gets a start when Jae rests on of his hands against his calf.

 

“You okay, little bug?” Jongin says, copying Sehun’s actions and lifting his son up into his arms, a little taken aback when Jae curls his arms and legs around him like a monkey.

 

“We’re hungry.” Yuri states rather abruptly from Sehun’s lap.

 

Baekhyun clicks his tongue, looking past Jongin at his little girl, “Cheeky thing. But I agree, let’s go get some food.”

 

Jongin leans back against the counter, hand resting securely on Jae’s back as he listens to the banter between the fathers and their daughter, a slight smile playing across his lips. As much as it pains him to admit it (because Sehun can be a cocky son of a bitch), he’s thankful for the pair and how well they look after him.

 

“You okay, bug?” Jongin asks when he notices Jae blinking his big eyes up at him, giving a soft sigh when the boy doesn’t answer and instead presses his face against his father’s chest.

 

Jongin rests his chin atop Jae’s head, looping both arms under the baby’s bottom and turns to rest his back against the counter, bottom lip caught between his teeth.  
Sehun meets his gaze from across the room and he looks concerned, which can’t mean anything good and Baekhyun will probably lecture the fuck out of him later for not talking about his relationship with Jae, but they’ve decided on Italian for dinner and talking will have to wait.

 

\--

 

Jongin will admit, watching two toddlers try to eat spaghetti is fantastic entertainment. While Yuri knows how to twirl the noodles onto her plastic fork, the sauce ends up all over her face, hands, table and her nice purple shirt. Jae struggles with everything, poking his food with his fork and ending up with a few strands sticking to the brightly coloured utensil, only to have them fall off into his lap as he’s lifting it to his mouth.

 

What’s not entertaining is the fact that Jongin can’t even bring himself to help his child. Baekhyun leans over Yuri, casting worried looks over at Jongin as the latter eats his own food, head down and eyes glazed over with what both men know as grief. He spends a few moments trying to teach Jae how to properly hold his fork, but gives up when the little boy grows frustrated and shifts his seat over between the two children so he can help the baby eat.  
Sehun silently observes, Jongin’s discomfort not going unnoticed, the tension getting worse when Yuri decides to start asking questions.

 

“Why is papa feeding Jae? Daddy, shouldn’t uncle Nini feed him?” She directs her words toward Sehun, catching the man off guard. 

 

Baekhyun freezes, but only for a moment, eyes darting between the three of them before he goes back to feeding Jae. Jongin’s whole body is stiff, because he knows she’s right, he should be the one feeding his own son. So why couldn’t he?

 

“Honey, it’s okay, we’ll talk about it later.” Sehun smiles reassuringly at his daughter, reaching over to wipe her messy face with a napkin and frowning when he realizes that her skin is stained orange from the sauce.

 

“Besides, papa doesn’t mind helping Jae.” Baekhyun adds, voice soft as he leans over Jae and rests his hand on Jongin’s thigh to give it a gentle squeeze.

 

They don’t stay long after they eat and both kids fall asleep in the back seat of the car as they drive back to Baekhyun and Sehun’s house. Jongin breathes a sigh of relief, arm looped under Jae’s bottom and hand pressed against his back as he carries him out of the car, following Sehun inside.  
As soon as they’ve put the kids down in Yuri’s room, Baekhyun takes hold of Jongin’s hand and guides him back to the living room, carefully pushing him down to sit on the couch, both waiting for Sehun who appears with a few cans of beer in his hands and passing one over to Jongin before he sits in an armchair.

 

Baekhyun perches himself on the couch cushion next to Jongin, his almond eyes wide and brimming with sympathy as he considers his widower friend. “Listen,” He starts quietly, “We’re not judging you for anything, you know that, don’t you?”

 

“I know.” Jongin sighs, popping open his can and taking a sip, not missing the unconvinced look on Baekhyun’s face, “I know, Baek, I know.”

 

“Are you depressed, Jongin?” Sehun asks, his voice softer than Jongin’s ever heard it, “I mean, do you think you might be?”

 

It’s a question Jongin doesn’t know how to answer.

 

“Do you think Jae might be depressed?” Baekhyun adds, his hand stroking down Jongin’s bicep.

 

Jongin’s eyebrows furrow, creasing the skin in between, “Isn’t he a little young for depression? Is depression in kids even a thing?”

 

“It is, and he’s not.” Baekhyun offers a small smile, his eyes creasing warmly in the outer corners, “He’s probably just as sad as you are, if not more.”

 

Jongin’s shoulders grow heavy and he sinks lower into the couch, taking another, longer sip from his can.

 

“Have you thought about, maybe, going to see a therapist?” Sehun says, rolling his eyes at the immediate groan of protest Jongn gives, “Hey, trying to help, you asshole.”

 

“We’re actually friends with a guy, he’s really good. He specifically works with people who have lost loved ones.” Baekhyun pats his knee, “We just want you to get better, Jongin. Not just for Jae, but for yourself.”

 

And even though he can think of nothing worse than sitting in a chair talking about his innermost feelings to a stranger, Jongin does too.

 

And as it turns out, Baekhyun is actually incredibly helpful when it comes to organizing things. Within a week Jongin is booked to start therapy once a week on Wednesday nights, starting the following month, and Jae registered and set to start the new term at Little Bee Kindergarten.  
Weeks pass by quickly, filled with thousands of trips to the mall with Baekhyun and Yuri and Jongin ends up spending way more money than what he thought he ever would on clothes, coloured pencils and snack foods. He’s happy to see that Jae seems to grow more excited with every passing day.

 

\--

 

When they arrive at the kindergarten, Jongin takes Jae’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.  
The building is not close to the parking lot out front, instead being seperated from the footpath next to the road by a small forest of trees, which part down the middle with a grass pathway marked with round white stones pressed against the lush green.  
Somewhere in the middle of the path there’s a white picket fence with a wooden archway rising above, painted words and bumblebee announcing their arrival to Litte Bee Kindergarten.

 

Jongin carefully opens the gate, leading Jae in before turning to close it behind them, gaze catching on Jae’s wide-open eyes as the little boy takes in the building before them with awe. Jongin can’t laugh or even blame Jae for looking a little overwhelmed; the kindergarten looks as if it came straight out of a storybook.  
The building looks like what once was a double-story cottage house, painted maroon red with white window frames and roof, with leafy green vines crawling up the sides and sprouting beautiful purple and pink flowers.  
The front garden is spacious and meticulously clean cut, framed by the white picket fence that has the same vines on the house winding around the wood. It seems to go right back behind the house and Jongin wishes so badly to explore, wishing he could spend his days in a place like this.

 

Some children are in the garden, kicking around a soccer ball while a tall, tan male stands on the front step, watching them closely. He’s dressed in light grey basketball shorts and a red lanyard hangs from around his neck with a whistle attached to the end, the vibrant colour clashing with the bright canary yellow shirt he’s wearing. The name embroidered t-shirt says ‘Minho’, so Jongin offers a smile.

 

“Hi, uhm, my son is starting today and I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do.” Jongin says, inwardly cursing at how stupid he sounds, feeling Jae’s hand tighten around his fingers.

 

“Ah! Are you Kim Jongin?” The man’s stern expression melts into a light smile, one that smoothes the lines of his face and creases his large eyes, making him look like a teenager. It only widens when Jongin nods, “Right this way.”

 

He takes a moment, pausing to toe his sneakers off at the door and call out to the squealing children and telling them that it’s about time to come in, waiting patiently for Jongin to remove Jae’s shoes and then his own. When they’re ready, he gestures for them to follow and Jongin notices the embroidered silver bee wings on the back of the yellow shirt as he walks behind the man and smiles.

 

“My name is Minho by the way. Choi Minho.” Minho turns his head to the side to offer a welcoming grin. The warm lights above them making his skin glow in an almost angelic way and Jongin’s anxious heart calms just the tiniest bit.

 

The interior of the building, or at least the hallway they walk down, is just as pretty as the outside. The floorboards are a deep, rich brown and the walls are a creamy white. They pass by about three rooms on their right side and one on their left, Jongin longing to peek into the windows, but most are covered by posters, paintings, photographs and even one room has beautiful translucent coloured butterflies which filter the sunlight and turn it blue, pink and green.  
Some of the doors are open and chatter filters through the house, mostly children’s voices but Jongin hears a few louder, older sounding tones as well. He manages to sneak a glance inside one room to his right, dark eyes meeting bright orange hair and he gawks, flushing when the young woman attached to the vibrant hair winks at him.

 

Minho leads them on, not noticing the things happening behind him, walking to the end of the hallway and turning sharply to the left where there is a staircase. They climb them slowly and Jae clings desperately to his father’s hand as they move, his little legs finding it harder to make each step.  
When they are at the top, there are two doors on either side and Minho goes to the open one on the right, tapping his knuckles against the frame.

 

“Byul?” He says in his deep voice, “Kim Jongin and his son are here.” A woman’s voice calls a reply and Minho grins, turning back to Jongin and Jae, “This is where I leave you. I’ll see you ‘round.”

 

Jongin thanks him and then looks up to the open door again, stepping closer when a slender, blonde haired woman pokes her head out, the collar of the same yellow shirt just visible.

 

“Come in!” She says, waving a hand at the two of them before she disappears into the room again.

 

Jongin gently tugs Jae forward and they enter the room, which is definitely an office, but one of the nicest ones he’s ever seen.  
The woman’s desk is on the far side of the room, positioned in front of a big window that stretches across the wall and Jongin can see the city close by, which seems otherworldly because this place is like a fantasyland.

In front of her desk are two comfy looking armchairs, worn from years of use but obviously well loved. Around them are various bookshelves and tables, all filled with files and books and pictures and paintings.

 

“I’m Moon Byulyi, but everyone calls me Moonbyul, so please be a part of that everyone.” The woman, Moonbyul, extends her hand and shakes Jongin’s with enthusiasm before she drops into a crouch and grins at Jae, “You must be Jae. It’s nice to meet you.”

 

Jae ducks his head shyly, but offers a small smile, something Moonbyul must consider a victory because she reaches over and gives the little boy’s cheek a gentle pinch before standing again, “Come in and sit down.” She says.

 

Jongin lifts Jae up and places him in one of the armchairs before taking a seat in the other, his hands clasped tightly in his lap as he sits up straight.

 

“So, Mr. Kim, welcome to our little slice of heaven.” Moonbyul says as she sits down, tucking her golden hair behind her ears before leaning both elbows on her desk.

 

“Please, call me Jongin.” Jongin smiles, “It really is beautiful here. I can’t believe a place like this actually exists.”

 

Moonbyul smiles again, her nose scrunching and front teeth showing and Jongin notices her striking resemblance to his friend Minseok, “Thank you! Yes, it is different from a regular school, isn’t it?” We’re totally licensed and everything though, our teachers are all qualified and have the necessary paperwork.”

 

Jongin just nods, unsure of what the correct response would be to that information and worries about the awkward silence to follow, but it doesn’t happen because Moonbyul just keeps talking.

 

“I’ll tell you a little about the way we work.” She says, pausing for Jongin to nod again, “We have four main classes, these are all for our children, Peach, Apricot, Melon and Pear,” She pauses at Jongin’s expression, “I like these fruits, okay. Anyway, the kids are grouped not based on their age or gender, but on their personalities. We distribute them to teachers who will specifically cater for their needs better, but we also have other curriculum run outside of regular class time. Which basically includes physical education, plants and gardening class, and cooking class. Each have different teachers so the kids can be pushed outside their comfort zones.” Moonbyul pauses, smiling softly at Jongin, “Am I making sense so far?”

 

“Yes, it makes sense.”

 

“Great!” She stands suddenly, “I’ve already chosen which class I think is best for Jae, not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good at class selecting.” Jae looks up at her as she approaches his chair, but her eyes are still on Jongin, “They’ll have started by now. Would you mind waiting here while I take Jae down? I’d like to go over more things and ask you some questions.”

 

“I don’t mind at all.” Jongin smiles, feeling a little flustered at her onslaught of words and information.

 

Jae immediately slides out of his chair and walks over to curl his fingers into Jongin’s pant leg. His eyes are wide and wet and he looks a little bit scared, so Jongin leans over and runs his fingers comfortingly through his hair, “Don’t cry, bug.” He says, “You’ll have a good time, okay?”

 

Jae’s bottom lip quivers slightly and his grip tightens.

 

“I’ll come get you when you’re done.” Jongin says, his voice gentle, “You go on.”

 

For a moment, Jae looks torn between leaping into his father’s arms for a hug or bursting into tears, but he chooses neither and opts for taking Moonbyul’s outstretched hand to follow her out of the room and back down the stairs.

 

Once they're out of sight, Jongin sighs and leans back in the chair, his eyes darting around the room to take everything in.  
The pictures hung on the wall by the desk are all of the same people, so Jongin guesses that they're the staff here as he recognizes Minho and the girl with the orange hair (though it's black in the photograph he’s looking at). There are about four pictures of all of them, each one in different places doing different things, but they look equally as happy in every photo. 

It stings Jongin's heart a little because he can't remember a time he felt so full of joy like these people. Since he was in high school things had been hard, even his wedding and the day Jae was born, he couldn't remember if he had felt true happiness even then. 

 

Some minutes pass and finally Jongin hears footsteps approach, turning his head when Moonbyul breezes back into the room, smile still present on her face. 

 

"Your son is very sweet." She says, tucking a straying piece of hair back into place. She makes no move to sit, but stays standing by the door, her head tilted slightly and eyes inviting, "You want some coffee?"

 

And for the first time since he woke up that morning, Jongin starts to relax. 

 

\--

 

Moonbyul ends up taking him into the room on the opposite side. It's much longer but not as wide as her office, with two of the big windows along the back wall instead of just one, plus another smaller two on the opposite side. Six medium sized desks line the walls, three either side. Each desk has various degrees of paperwork and books, plus personal items and other mess, with the exception of the one in the back corner on the left side that seems decidedly clean. 

 

They walk through to the back of the room and Jongin is all too happy to take a seat in one of the beanbags on the floor when Moonbyul offers. She shuffles into the small kitchen area and hovers around the expensive looking espresso machine perched proudly on the countertop. 

 

"So, Mr. Jongin," Moonbyul sweeps her golden hair over one shoulder, "I hope you don't mind me asking some personal questions." 

 

"It depends on what they are." Jongin sighs, scooting his bean-filled chair back so it rests in the sunlight filtering through one of the windows. 

 

"I'd like to ask a little about your home life but also about your work status." She continues, arms folded over her chest as she watches the machine, "Firstly, I'd like to confirm that you are indeed a single parent. Is that right?"

 

Jongin's chest tightens painfully and his voice comes out a little strained, "Yes, that's right."

 

"Your wife..." Moonbyul takes the filled cup out from under the machine, walking over to hand the white porcelain into Jongin's waiting fingers, "She passed away, didn't she?" Her eyes meet his and they're full of quiet understanding.

 

"Cancer." Jongin breathes, dark eyes falling to stare at the equally dark liquid inside his cup, "About eight months ago."

 

"I'm sorry." Moonbyul says, her fingertips very briefly touching Jongin's arm before she pulls away and comfortably squishes down into a beanbag opposite him, her demeanour changing, "Did you take Jae anywhere for care or anything before this? Or is this his first time around other children? It seemed as if it was."

 

"My sister usually took him for the day while I was at work." Jongin's thankful for the change in topic, and also for the hot slide of the coffee down his throat, sighing as it warms his belly, "He's only been around my friends' daughter." 

 

"Right." She looks thoughtful for a moment, "And you work as...?"

 

"I'm a dance tutor at a performing arts school in the city." He answers quietly, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his hair.

 

"And how long are your hours?" 

 

"I work from one to five." He notices her eyebrow twitch at his reponse, "Is there a problem?"

 

"Not really, it's just that we finish at three-thirty. But we have after school care that runs until six, so it's not an issue." She smiles and it's very reassuring, "All our staff is usually around, but we have specific teachers for specific days."

 

Jongin nods, draining the rest of his cup. 

 

"Do you have any questions for me?" Moonbyul asks, brushing her fingers down her front to smooth her shirt, "Anything at all. I'm like an open book."

 

Jongin purses his lips, thinking for a moment, "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking you that. From what I've seen your staff don't look very old."

 

"Well," She grins and again, Jongin gapes at her similarity to Minseok, "You'd be right. My staff are all in their twenties. I'm twenty-three myself." 

 

Jongin is taken aback, "You're only one year older than me?" He blurts out before he can stop it or clap a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushing red as soon as he's said it. 

 

"I've always felt as if younger people do better with kids, though a lot disagree." The woman looks past Jongin, her eyes a dazzling hazel brown in the sunlight, "Its taken a lot to get Little Bee to where it is today, I had to fight hard for what we have and to keep everything the way it is... Besides, an old person looking after kids in such a pretty house surrounded by a forest? That's like something out of a bad fairytale." 

 

She laughs at herself, her golden hair and eyes so enchanting that Jongin can't help but smile too.


End file.
